


Control & Understanding

by Gumnut



Series: Gumnut’s Thunderbirds Episode Tags [8]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Brothers, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-14 19:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19279567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: His feet hit the stairs like the inevitable rocks in a rock slide, dragged down the slope by the needs of gravity...and family.Sometime after ‘Who did it?’ but can be read alone. A short time after Jeff Tracy’s disappearance. SPOILERS FOR 3.14, vaguely an episode tag.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Control  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 19 Jun 2019  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: His feet hit the stairs like the inevitable rocks in a rock slide, dragged down the slope by the needs of gravity...and family.  
> Word count: 1675  
> Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR 3.14, vaguely an episode tag.  
> Timeline: Sometime after ‘[Who did it?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17182640/chapters/45713224)’ but can be read alone. A short time after Jeff Tracy’s disappearance.  
> Author’s note: This fic was inspired by @honeybee-hayes and @vegeticide. They mentioned the scene in 3.14 where Scott said they had watched the video a thousand times. This story is one of those times. It doesn’t offer any answers or much in the way of resolution, but sometimes there just isn’t any. I have some more words written for this fic so there is a chance of a sequel depending on whether the characters behave or not. I hope you enjoy this. Many, many thanks to all of you for your kind words of support for my writing. You are wonderful.  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

His feet hit the stairs like the inevitable rocks in a rock slide, dragged down the slope by the needs of gravity...and family.

He knew what he would find and he dreaded it.

Sure enough, lit only by the replaying holovid, his brother was a slouched statue in the dark. He sat limp in their father’s chair at their father’s desk, staring at their father’s last moments. His face sculpted by the light of Jeff Tracy fighting for his life.

The room lit up in the flash of explosive finality, the glass of the villa walls and roof reflecting it back from the darkness outside as if to keep the misery trapped in its confines.

A flick of his brother’s finger and his father reappeared above the desk climbing out of that ill-fated ship once more.

It was cruel, the rules of the virtual, when reality was so final.

No rewind.

No undo.

Just gone.

Virgil swallowed, hidden in the dark shadows of the lounge.

Scott lifted flickering amber to his lips and swallowed, too.

The bottle sitting beside him was almost empty.

Virgil closed his eyes.

He hadn’t let himself think too hard since they received the news. Thinking hurt and there was far too much hurt in the air at the moment. He had family to attend to.

Alan wasn’t coping very well at all. Gordon was struggling. John...John was quiet. Distant. Virgil knew his next youngest brother handled emotion a little differently so he gave him some space, touching base every now and again, monitoring from afar and only daring to step in if...if John stumbled.

As for himself...he kept busy. If he was honest, he was hiding. He didn’t want to think too hard. Didn’t want to tap into how he felt. That way led to exactly the scene in front of him now.

Scott was devastated. It was in his eyes. Desperate. Desolate. His eldest brother had always idolised his father and with his loss, the man was floundering.

Sure, he put up a front. Scott was strong for his brothers, particularly the two youngest. Hell, he had to sign guardianship papers for Allie. A parent to his little brother.

Not that there was any question. God, no. But so much had landed on his brother’s broad shoulders, Virgil worried they might break under the strain.

And each night he could be found here. Once the paperwork had been done. Once the ‘birds were safe in their hangars. Once darkness had fallen. Usually without the alcohol. But sometimes...

Virgil sighed.

Dull blue eyes lifted and stared at him.

“If you have something to say, say it and go away.” His brother’s voice was rough and a touch slurred.

Virgil’s shoulders slumped just a little before he forced himself to straighten.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothin’. Just leave me alone and take your judgment with you.”

A sigh and yes, his shoulders slumped a little and stayed that way.

Quiet. “No judgment.” A breath. “Just concern.”

“Yes, exactly. Virgil Tracy, missionary to the parentless.”

Okay, so that did hurt. He was managing the best he could. A blink and he froze the thought. Not thinking about it.

Focus.

Voice rough. “This isn’t helping you.”

“And there it is. The preacher is in the house.” His brother waved a hand in Virgil’s direction. “You bring the word of healing for those who just...can’t...cope.” He punctuated that last with a grab at the glass of memory killer and thumped it on the desk before downing its contents in one gulp.

Virgil took the last few steps to the desk and reaching through the ghost of his father hit the holoprojector’s off switch.

The room fell into darkness.

A moment and his eyes adjusted to the starlight. A shaft of crescent moon shone between the rafters and sculpted the anger on his brother’s face.

“What did you do that for?!”

“You need your bed, Scott.”

“I need Dad, Virgil.” It was anger and grief in one line. “He’s in there. The answer is in there. I just need to find it.”

Virgil’s heartbeat throbbed against his ribs and sung in his ears. “He’s not in there. If he was, we would have found him by now.”

“No.”

“Scott, go to bed.”

“Go to hell.” He stabbed at the table and the holoprojector flared to life, just in time for the explosion yet again.

Virgil slapped the off button just that touch harder.

Scott swore and stood up so fast, for a moment Virgil feared he was going to fall on his face. “What is it with you?! The saintly one. There for everyone. Always got a caring word to smooth all those worries. Well, guess what, Virgil, you can’t fix this! He’s gone and I can’t find him.” His brother’s voice broke.

Virgil reached out a hand and touched that shaking shoulder fully expecting it to be slapped away, so was surprised when it wasn’t. “We will find him. But doing this to yourself is not going to help. Anyone.”

He couldn’t see those blue eyes in the darkness, but he could feel them interrogating his soul.

“How?”

It was whispered and so desperate, Virgil’s heart broke in his chest. His other hand reached out and he found his hands full of trembling brother. “Together, Scott. Together.” His hands spasmed in their grip. “But you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” A harsh in drawn breath. “I need you, Scott. Please.”

And there it was. Everything he didn’t want to think about. The past. Now. The future.

Dad.

It caught in his throat and he fought it.

“Please, Scott.” Hoarse. “Go to bed.”

Moonlight glinted in the darkness and stilled, staring at him. “Virg?”

A swallow and he let his brother go. Saying nothing, he grabbed the bottle and screwed the cap shut. He reached down, opened the bottom drawer of the desk, and shoving the amber liquid into the shadows, shut it away.

Scott’s gaze raked over him as he straightened.

Virgil gestured in the direction of the elevator. “Are you coming?”

That stare continued for a moment before flicking away and targeting the surface of their father’s desk. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?”

“You are such a fake.”

Virgil’s heart missed a beat.

“All positive, all caring. Good words for everyone.” A drunken scoff. “You’re just as messed up as the rest of us.” A snort. “You just won’t admit it.”

Virgil’s lips thinned, but he didn’t answer.

“Why?”

He turned away, intending to leave, but Scott grabbed his arm. “No, you don’t get to retreat and keep that calm facade. What are you afraid of?”

A blink and Virgil realised he was biting the inside of his cheek. He tasted blood.

“Scott, go to bed.”

“Are you afraid we’ll fall apart without you? Do you think you are our rock, Virgil? Does it feel good to be the one we all lean on?”

“Screw you.” It came out hoarse and cold. He shook off his brother’s hand and spun towards the elevator. “Drink yourself into oblivion, see if I care.”

“Aww, did I hit a nerve? You’re running scared.”

“No, I’m just sick of listening to your crap.”

“You just don’t like facing the truth.”

“The truth?” He spun and stormed over to his brother, shoving himself into his face. “You want the truth, Scott? Dad’s gone. I miss him. You miss him. We all miss him. Chances are he is not coming back. We are all messed up and we just need to keep on doing what we need to do and some days I don’t know if I can. I see Alan crying when he doesn’t know I’m there. Gordon isn’t eating. Claims he’s not hungry. He’s losing weight. John....I’m losing John. He’s just gone. Just like Dad. And you, my god, Scott, please...I can’t do this without you.” A desperate swallow. “Please.”

And he was trembling.

There was a reason why he didn’t want to think. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t control.

He needed control.

A staggered indrawn breath. He straightened his shoulders. Barely heard. “Go to bed, Scott.”

Virgil turned away.

Only to be grabbed from behind and spun around. He found himself wrapped in his eldest brother; the man’s face buried in his shoulder.

Muffled. “I’m sorry.” Harsh breathing. “I’m sorry, Virgil.”

Scott’s shirt was soft against his cheek.

“I don’t know what to do. He’s gone and I don’t know what to do.”

Slow to respond, stalled in shock, Virgil’s arms wrapped around the shaking man. Something in his throat was strangling him. “We’ll work it out.”

Scott was clinging to him.

It worried him more than the yelling. “Scott?”

The arms around him tightened, but his brother said nothing.

Then, just as abruptly, Scott let him go. Virgil staggered without his brother’s support and would have fallen if he didn’t slam a hand on the desk.

Scott was all unsteady shadow. “I think I should go to bed.”

A blink. “I think you should, too.”

An awkward silence.

“Goodnight, Scott.”

His brother’s shadow bobbed its head and took a step backwards. ‘Night, Virg.” An uncertain pause and Scott was walking a little unsteadily towards the elevator.

A breath and he was gone.

Virgil collapsed into his father’s chair and closed his eyes.

Dad, where are you?

We need you.

We miss you.

I miss you.

I need you.

Abruptly, Virgil shot out of the chair as fast as he had fallen into it. He needed air.

Down the kitchen stairs and he was out on the patio, striding past the pool, to the very edge of the house plateau. The ocean was lit by that same crescent moon, light sparkling on the distant swell.

Virgil dragged a lounger over to the edge of the cliff and sat down.

Closing his eyes, he let the waves below calm him, the warm breeze caress the frown from his forehead, and slowly, ever so slowly he relaxed.

And ignored the single tear that escaped.

-o-o-o-

 


	2. Understanding

“Virgil?” A whisper.

A soft touch to his forehead. He frowned.

“Virgil.” Cool, musical. He really should have learnt to sing, he would have been magnificent.

“I’m not singing. We’ve had this discussion before.”

Huh?

“Trust me, you want to wake up before Gordon and Alan find you out here.”

A set of neurons fired in the correct sequence and the name ‘John’ came to mind. A slow blink found his red-haired younger brother sitting beside him on another lounger. “What are you doing out here?”

“I think I should be asking you that question. I’m up early to see the meteor shower. I seriously doubt you’re out here for the same reason.”

It was pre-dawn, the sky still dark, the stars still out. A bright spark arced across the sky. Another followed. The moon had set, so the ocean was lit only by starlight and the dim glow on the eastern horizon.

“Is Scott okay?” John’s voice was hesitant.

The question came out of left field. “What?”

“He got into Dad’s stash again last night, didn’t he.”

A sigh and Virgil slumped into the lounger. “He did.”

“Is he okay?”

“About as okay as any of us.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Virgil eyed his little brother. This was more words from John than he had received in the last week. “What about you? How are you?”

“I’m...getting there.”

“Where?”

“Where I need to be.” As if to punctuate the point, a meteor shot across the sky in all its white brilliance. John ignored it, looking down at his hands. “Virgil, can I give you a recommendation?”

Huh? “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Again with that hesitation. “I think you should let him in.”

“What?”

“You and Scott are remarkably the same in so many ways, but you are so different, it is hard see it.”

Virgil groaned. “John, it is far to early for riddles. I need coffee before any of that is going to make any sense at all.”

John shifted where he sat. “Virgil, you are not Dad anymore than Scott is.”

“What?!” He sat up too fast and his dopey brain protested. Augh.

John held his hands up. “Hey, hear me out.”

Virgil expected him to keep talking, but he stopped as if waiting for a response. It was far too early in the morning for this. “Then start talking.”

Something flickered in John’s eyes. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Straightening as if in resolve, John continued. “I know you prefer to keep it to yourself. I understand that, believe me.” The softest of smiles. “But...” A sigh. “Scott needs you. He needs to know you need him.”

Virgil stared at his brother. “What?”

“I’m just saying that it wouldn’t hurt to show that...Dad’s...loss...is hurting you as much as it is the rest of us.” The last came out in a rush uncharacteristic of his calm brother, but then it was surreal that he was receiving such advice from John.

Falling stars streaked across the sky and the glow to the east was slowly getting brighter, washing out the display. As if in defiance, one particularly large meteor tore across the sky, flashing orange and white, flickering in its last dying breath.

Like a fragment of that explosion.

Virgil closed his eyes a moment before opening them and catching his brother’s turquoise.

“John, I...appreciate what you are saying, but...” And there it was, catching in his throat again. He forced it down, but it left his voice raspy. “I’m...managing this the best I can.”

“I know you are. I appreciate everything you’ve been doing. What I’m saying is that you need to look after yourself as much as you are trying to look after everyone else.”

“I...”

“You need to let it go.”

And it swelled up in his throat again, stealing his voice.

“Think about it. Let us, let Scott help you, too.”

His voice continued to fail him and his heart was beating harder than it needed to. John was frowning at him in concern. “Virgil?”

Virgil cleared his throat, automatic defences coming into play. “I’m fine.” His heartbeat was making it hard to hear.

John was eyeing him warily. Virgil felt a sudden need for privacy, to get away. God, he wasn’t ready for this.

“I’ll leave you to your meteor shower.”

His brother straightened where he was sitting, an awkward hand reached out towards him and Virgil eyed it as if it was a snake. Standing abruptly, he took himself out of John’s reach. “Thanks, John. I...will think about it.”

“Okay.” Those turquoise eyes were wide with worry.

Not brave enough to say anything further, Virgil turned and, striding faster than usual across the patio, headed up to his rooms.

Shutting the door behind him, he shut the world out. Shut out the concern in John’s eyes, the anger in Scott’s, the tears in Alan’s, the loss in Gordon’s, the grief blanketing the island. Curling up, he let himself slide down the door until his butt hit the carpet and his head fell into his hands.

Just breathe.

Just.

Breathe.

-o-o-o-

Knocking.

“Virgil?”

Somebody gave him a shove from behind and he groaned. God, leave me alone.

“Virgil! Are you okay?”

Now somebody was touching him. He groaned again. “G’way!”

“You’re on the floor. Did you fall? Are you hurt?”

What the hell?

Who? His brain sourced the necessary information. “Alan?” His voice croaked through an aching throat.

“Virgil, talk to me.”

He forced his eyes open and found his worried little brother surrounded by a familiar room from an unfamiliar angle.

Virgil was on the floor just inside the door of his room. He must have fallen asleep there. Augh. He didn’t have the energy for this.

“I’m okay, Allie. Must have fallen asleep.” A groan and he pushed himself upright. His whole body complained. Yeah, okay, it was the floor, it did that.

“On the floor? You sure you’re okay?”

He wasn’t. Memory flashed from the previous night and that early morning. It all sucked. “I’m good. Just tired.” He forced his brain into some kind of order and calm. “How about you? You okay?”

His little brother rolled back on his heels, his eyes on the floor. “Scott’s sick again.”

The briefest flash of concern before the dots connected. A glance at the watch he still had on revealed it was lunchtime. Scott with a hangover was not a fun experience. Grumpy and snappy.

“Keep away from him for a while. He’ll get over it.”

“Virg...it’s Daddy, isn’t it.”

A sigh that hurt. “Come here, squirt.” He held up a hand and his littlest brother darted under it and curled up beside him. Virgil buried his face in the mop of messy blond hair and squeezed. If he closed his eyes and sought his own comfort from the contact, he wasn’t going to admit it. “Everyone misses Dad, Allie. It hurts.”

“I know, it’s just Scott was yelling and John was yelling. Gordon told me to come find you.”

Oh, hell. Fantastic, just what they all needed.

A kiss to his brother’s head. “Wanna have a go on my new art program?”

Instant distraction. Bright blue eyes widened. “The one with the automatic animation?”

Virgil grinned. “Yup. Even has some stock art you can play with. I think...” He let his brother go and the boy bounced to his feet. Virgil followed a touch slower and with a lot more creaking. Reaching for his tablet, he grabbed his stylus and prodded it. “...yes, it has some cars you can manipulate.” A flick of the art pen and he pulled up a red racer. “Here you go.” The youngster grabbed it eagerly. “Remember, treat the equipment with respect and it will serve you well.”

Alan’s shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes. “Yes, Virgil.” Very put-upon.

Virgil couldn’t help but grin just a little. “Sit on my bed and get a little sun. Make some vitamin D.”

“Yes, Virgil.” More sarcasm, but it was half hearted and distracted. By the sounds of it, Alan had already discovered the sound effects file and the tablet was growling.

The older brother smirked and slipped from the room. One brother amused. Three more to attend to. The smile fell from his lips.

-o-o-o-

Sure enough, as he neared the comms room, loud voices reached his ears.

“You need to give him some space.”

“I’m not the one not giving space, John. He harassed me!”

“It’s his way of coping-“

“By bugging everyone else!”

“And what, yours is better? How’s your head?”

“It’s fine.”

“Sure it is. You need to keep away from the alcohol. You’re going to give yourself a problem.”

Virgil stopped just out of sight of his brothers, getting a lay of the land before he entered the fray. He rolled his shoulders attempting to loosen up floor battered muscles.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. No one in this house is fine.”

“Including you?”

“Including me.” John was standing with his back to the balcony, glaring at Scott who once again was beside their father’s desk. “I caught him with Grandma crying on his shoulder last week. They didn’t see me, and I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t let them. He is hurting as much as any of us. Have you looked at him? Really looked at him?”

Virgil winced. Grandma had had a moment. She had lost her son, after all. Scott was so busy, someone had to look after her.

“Of course, I have, but he says he is fine. He won’t let me in. He’s all about everyone else and are you okay? Can I help you? He won’t let me near him.”

“I wonder why.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re just as bad as he is! All macho, strong and resilient. Would it hurt you to get down and dirty with the rest of the family and shed a little tear?”

“How...I...Handle...My...Grief...Is...My...Business.” There was fury in every capital letter.

“It’s our business when it is not being handled at all!”

“What the hell would you know?! You hide up in that tin can as far away as possible from all of us!”

“I do my job.”

“You’re chicken ass scared!”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” It exploded from him in a massive rush. To his absolute horror, Virgil found he was shaking. “What the hell do you think you are doing?!” His glare narrowed in on Scott. “You may be hurting, but that doesn’t give you the right to hurt others because of it!”

His eldest brother froze and paled. “Virgil, I-“

“No, you’ve said enough! Now you listen to me!” He advanced on his brother and Scott took a step back. Out the corner of his eye he registered a shocked Gordon sitting on the lounge and John even paler than Scott staring at him. “You are saying you want me to show you how I feel?” A hand, apparently his, was punctuating each word pointedly in Scott’s direction. “Dad is gone.” The simple statement hurt. “I...” A forced swallow. Get it out. “I have had to watch the man I most admire fall apart in front of me.” His voice broke on the last word. “I have seen my family collapse in grief and I...” Blood was rushing to his face. What was he doing? He couldn’t...he shouldn’t.

“Virgil?”

No!

He turned and Alan was standing at the edge of the room, tablet in hand, hair still mussed.

No, he couldn’t. Not in front of Alan. Hell, not in front of Gordon, either. What? What was he thinking?

A touch on his arm and Virgil jumped. He turned to find Scott up close and personal. And then he was being held. Scott’s arms wrapped around him, one hand on his back, the other in his hair, his head gently held against his big brother’s shoulder.

“It is going to be alright, Virgil.” Scott’s voice was rough.

What? He made to straighten up, but his brother held on to him.

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” Scott’s hand was rubbing circles into his back. Virgil was trembling.

“I...” But the words caught in his throat and only a sob made it past his lips. No! He shouldn’t. He tried to pull away.

Scott hung on.

The sound of running feet on the hardwood floor and Alan collided with him, his thin arms wrapping around both his brothers.

“Virgil, it’s okay.” His little brother’s voice was higher pitched than normal and it tipped the scales.

Virgil broke.

It came from deep inside. It tore down every wall and came out in great heaving sobs. No, no, he shouldn’t, he couldn’t...

But he did.

Scott caught him, strong arms lowering him to the floor. Amongst the tears he felt hands and heard voices. Scott was repeating his mantra and someone else was also crying, but Virgil had nothing left to offer. None of his controls were responding, his plane was going down and there was nothing he could do about it.

-o-o-o-

“Virg, you with us?”

The voice was soft and hesitant. Scott.

Virgil opened his eyes to find himself curled up against his big brother’s chest. The familiar blue shirt was damp.

A blink. They were sitting on the floor, Alan curled up with them...and Gordon? Gordon...sixteen-year-old Gordon...had his arms around Virgil, head snuggled into his back.

“Wha-?”

A hand shifted from his shoulder and John appeared in his eyeline. “How do you feel?”

“I...” Another blink and he drew in a shaky breath. His throat was clogged and his face raw. His eyes felt like they had been sandpapered clean. “...don’t know.”

Alan shifted and looked up at him. His little brother’s face was tearstained and blotchy. “Are you alright now?” His voice was small and fearful.

Oh god, what had he done?

“Virgil will be fine, Alan. It is going to take some time...for all of us...but we will be okay. I promise.” Scott’s eyes stared down at Alan with such earnestness that Virgil couldn’t do anything but believe him.

Gordon shifted against him, a hand ruffled Virgil’s hair and red-rimmed but smiling brown eyes bounced at him. “Sure we will.” A watery smile and Virgil wanted nothing than to reach out and hold his little brother to protect him from the world. “Oh, Allie, Virg let you use his tablet?!” The second youngest mock pounced on the discarded piece of electronics and held it like it was a precious find from a diamond mine.

“Hey, Gordon, he let me use it, not you.” Alan leapt up and tried to claim it back.

Gordon danced out of reach. “So, is that app as cool as he says it is?”

“So totally. Give it back, I haven’t finished with it.”

“Gordon.”

Virgil didn’t have to look up, he could feel the scorching heat of Scott’s glare pass over his head.

“Cool your heels, big bro, I’m just taking Virgil’s tablet back to his room where Alan can show me how the new app works.”

Scott didn’t say anything further, but Virgil could feel him shift, his shoulders dropping a few millimetres of tension. Alan, completely distracted by his next oldest brother, followed Gordon out of the room.

Their absence left a silence broken only by seagulls and the breeze.

Virgil hadn’t moved from where Scott held him close. He was caught between comfort and embarrassment and tied up by vulnerability. If he closed his eyes it could be his father’s arms holding him.

That thought caught his throat and threatened more exposure. It forced him to sit up and away from his older brother despite the fact he really didn’t want to.

A hand landed on his shoulder again and John folded himself down beside the both of them. His face was strained, but held a touch of hope. “Better?”

Virgil responded with a one shouldered shrug. Scott’s arm was still around his back, and despite himself, he cherished the touch.

A cleared throat. Virgil looked up at his brother. Despite all the calm of his words and Scott’s marshalling of the younger two, the man looked wrecked.

There were tears in his big brother’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Virgil.” Gone was the surety and confidence. Gone was the anger, the fury and the resentment. In their wake, Scott looked fragile.

And, god, it hurt.

Without thought, Virgil launched himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close. The damned tears welled again and thank goodness the two youngest had left the room because it was inelegant and messy.

Scott shook in his arms and Virgil had no control over anything.

Nothing was said, but everything was expressed.

Everything.

It didn’t last long, Scott holding him just that bit tighter before loosening his hold and gently pulling back. Virgil let him go, but fell a little limp against his shoulder, unwilling to lose contact.

“I...I will do better.” Scott’s voice was quiet and hoarse. “I promise.”

Virgil had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Y-You don’t have to be strong all the time. Talk to me. I...I need you, Scott.” A thought caught in his throat. “I can’t do this without you.”

His brother shifted against him, muscles tensing.

Virgil bit his lip. “And you can’t do it without us.”

Exhaled. “I know.”

“We do this together.”

And Virgil turned to the third brother in the room, reaching out with his hand.

John, ever calm, had an intensity in his eyes, as if a fire had been lit inside. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, but his expression was ignoring them. He grabbed Virgil’s hand and held on tight.

“Together.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
